To the south lay Alcatraz Island, and from its gun-crowned heights a flourish of trumpets saluted the day.

In the west the Golden Gate yawned between the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay.

A full-rigged ship, with her lightest canvas, even to the sky-sails, set, was coming slowly in on the flood-tide.
It was a pretty sight.

Joe rubbed the sleep from his eyes and drank in the glory of it till 'Frisco Kid told him to go for'ard and make ready for dropping the anchor.
"Overhaul about fifty fathoms of chain," he ordered, "and then stand by." He eased the sloop gently into the wind, at the same time casting off the jib-sheet.

"Let go the jib-halyards and come in on the downhaul!" Joe had seen the manoeuver performed the previous night, and so was able to carry it out with fair success.
"Now! Over with the mud-hook! Watch out for turns! Lively, now!" The chain flew out with startling rapidity and brought the _Dazzler_ to rest.